


Yesterday Is Never Gone

by gglol31



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Multiple chapters, Slow Build, Unresolved Sexual Tension, rating for future chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:52:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3729646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gglol31/pseuds/gglol31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Rory Blake. I am fifteen years old and when I was seven, my mother lost her battle with cancer. In her will, she left me one letter to open on my birthday for the next eight years. In the last letter, she urged me to right a wrong she felt she'd done in her past; to realign the love that she had come between.</p>
<p>or, the multi chapter fic where Clarke and Bellamy keep fucking missing each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mary's Song

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fanfiction world!! This is my first story in a long long looong time and my first story in this fandom so I am extremely nervous. My mom has really gotten into Bollywood and Hindi films and she told me about a movie and I thought it would be the perfect Bellarke fic so this is loosely based on that movie. I'm gonna do a lot of jumping back and forth between present day and the past. Please review I would love to hear what you guys think!!

_“Alright, now one of the most important things about riding a bike is making sure you hold the handle bars really tight, okay?”_

_They’d been at this for the past hour. They started off in the col-de sac in front of her house, getting used to the feel of the bike. Now they stood at the top of the hill that led into the col-de-sac. Clarke knew that the best way to impress her dad was to show him that she had conquered a two-wheeler by the time he returned home from work. The only other person on her block who knew how to ride a two-wheeler at the humble age of five was her best friend Octavia. And though she was a year younger than Clarke, Octavia had learned from the best; her brother, Bellamy. At nine going on ten, he seemed to know everything about anything._

_“Okay,” Clarke breathed heavily. She readjusted her fingers on the handle bars and planted her feet firmly on the ground._

_“It’s really fun, Clarke!” Octavia exclaimed from her side, green eyes wide with excitement. “It feels like you’re flying!”_

_“See,” Bellamy smiled down at Clarke, “there’s nothing to be afraid of.”_

_“I’m not afraid,” she snapped, keeping her blue eyes on the hill before her. She didn’t want Bellamy Blake of all people thinking she was afraid of a little hill. It was okay, it was going to be perfectly fine. She’d seen all the older kids ride down this hill a thousand times. Sometimes, one of them would fall but they would never walk away with anything more than a scrapped knee or elbow._

_Bellamy silently raised his eyebrows and shared an impressed look with Octavia. Octavia smiled proudly and leaned towards Clarke, “I’ll see you down there!” and took off with an excited squeal. Everything Octavia did was executed with effortless grace. She glided down the hill with ease, even taking her hands off the handle bars once she got down the hill.  
Octavia jumped off her bike and flipped her long dark brown plait off her shoulder._

_“Come on, Clarke!” she yelled encouragingly._

_Clarke messily brushed the blonde hair from her eyes and took another shaky breath. Bellamy knew she was scared, even though she wouldn’t admit it. He kneeled next to her bike, putting one of his hands next to hers on the handle bar. He was standing close enough that she could easily count the freckles spread generously across his cheeks._

_“Remember to back pedal when you want to stop,” he said gently. His hands came up to tighten the straps of her helmet. He stood up, walked behind her and placed his hands on the seat, ready to give her a push. “Ready?-”_

_“Wait!”_

_Clarke turned back towards him. “What if… what if I fall?” she asked, her voice trembling._

_He took a knee next to her once again and placed a hand on her shoulder._

_“You might fall, “Clarke’s eyes grew wide in fear, “but I’ll be riding right next to you to make sure that doesn’t happen.”_

_“Claaaaarrrkeeee!! Come on!! I’m growing old down here!!” Octavia screamed again, throwing her arms in the air._

_Bellamy chuckled and Clarke thought it was the best sound she’d ever heard.  
“Alright,” Bellamy stood up and returned to his spot behind her, “I’m gonna give you a push and then I’ll ride down behind you, okay?”_

_Clarke nodded and squeezed the handle bars so tight her fingers turned white. Bellamy counted down loudly._

_“One…”_

_Clarke heard Octavia scream out an exasperated ‘Finally!’_

_“Two…”_

_She quickly wiped the blonde hair from her eyes._

_“Three!”_

_Clarke felt the sharp push and kicked off of the ground the way he had showed her. It was only a few seconds before she felt the world tilt downward and her heart jump to her throat. Clarke gripped the handle bars tightly, steering herself away from the curb when suddenly, she felt it. Octavia was right._

_She was flying._

_Clarke let out a shriek full of awe and excitement that ended in a high pitched giggle. She could see Octavia jumping up and down and over the whoosh of wind rushing past her ears she could hear Bellamy next to her cheering her on. Clarke let herself take a peek at him. He was focused on her, with the proudest smile on his face. Clarke’s eyes met his and they shared a wide smile as the trough of the hill. Clarke back pedaled to stop her bike and barely had to stand up from her seat before she felt Octavia’s arms around her._

_“How awesome was that!” Octavia shrieked in her ear._

_Clarke laughed with her. “Bellamy!! Did you see that?! I was flying!”_

_He nodded, lifting his hand up for a high five. As their hands connected he said, “You did great! I knew you would” still smiling._

_“Let’s ride back up to the top so we can all ride down together!” Octavia squealed._

_Clarke could feel her heart beating throughout her body. Bellamy nodded in agreement with Octavia, started pushing his bike up the hill and turned to make sure they were following him. Octavia patted Clarke on the back once more, grabbed her bike and started after Bellamy. With a small smile, Clarke wiped the excess sweat from her palms and trailed after the Blake siblings._

_***  
Clarke had known the Blake siblings for as long as she could remember. They had always been there; Octavia, ready to share the few toys she had compared to Clarke, and Bellamy, always sharing random facts and making sure they were safe. Clarke never met their dad and the one time she brought it up, Octavia simply replied that they didn’t have one and the issue was dropped. Clarke thought to herself how sad she would be if she didn’t have her dad in her life and felt a rush of sadness for Octavia and Bellamy. But she knew they were fine without a dad. They had Aunt Aurora. _

_Aurora, Aunt Aurora as Clarke knew her, and Clarke’s father had been friends since college, so she and her kids were always at their house. When Aurora was at work, Bellamy and Octavia would come home with Clarke and her father and vice versa. Clarke’s mother was rarely there due to the unpredictable work hours of a surgeon. But Clarke didn’t mind. The best part of the day was spending time with Octavia and Bellamy._

_“No, Clarke you’re holding the controller upside down!”_

_“How was I supposed to know that?!”_

_“Look at how I’m doing it.”_

_“I can’t see with your man hands in the way, Bellamy!”_

_“Haha... man hands…”_

_“Shut up, Octavia! That’s why you’re losing!”_

_They were currently in Clarke’s basement playing the newest version of some video game Clarke had received from a distant cousin for her birthday. Of course, the second Bellamy saw it his whole face lit up, immediately convincing Clarke that it must be a fun game._

_She was wrong._

_“Bellamy, this game is hard!” Clarke whined._

_“No, it’s not you just don’t know how to play it yet,” he replied, eyes glued to the TV screen._

_“Listen to the boy, sweetheart. You’ve just got to practice,” Jake Griffin’s voice bellowed from the top of the stairs._

_“Daddy!!!”  
With the video game completely forgotten, Clarke bounced up and ran into her father’s arms just as he finished descending the stairs._

_“Hello pumpkin,” he said into her hair._

_“Uncle Jake!!” Octavia exclaimed, latching onto his leg._

_Jake let out an over exaggerated grunt as he began to move further into the room with Octavia clutching to his leg for dear life. Octavia and Clarke both giggled as he leaned down to scoop Octavia up into his other arm and placed them on the couch in front of the television._

_“Hey Uncle Jake,” Bellamy said refusing to look away from the screen._

_“Oh my god, Bellamy such a warm welcome,” Jake placed his hand over his heart in mock-appreciation. Turning back to the girls he said, “I hope you guys haven’t been playing this game all day.”  
“No, Uncle Jake we just started” Octavia said, playing with her braid._

_“Yeah! And Daddy I can ride a two-wheeler now! Bellamy showed me how!!” Clarke exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement._

_“Really?” eye brows raised, Jake looked thoroughly impressed. Looking back and forth between Bellamy and Clarke, “Well then I guess I’m just going to have to see for myself.”_

_Octavia and Clarke let out an excited squeal and raced up the stairs, out the door and to the driveway where they left their bikes. Constantly turning around to make sure her father had followed, Clarke quickly ran her bike up the hill with Octavia. Jake stood at the bottom of the hill, blocking the rays of sunshine with his hand._

_At the top of the hill, Clarke looked over at Octavia, “Ready?”_

_She nodded, “On the count of three.”_

_“One, two… three!” they screamed in unison, laughing the whole way down._


	2. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- But fuck. Mom wanted this. This couldn’t be a mistake; it was right there in her perfect handwriting. -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hi, it's only been like *checks watch* two? Maybe three years? But this story always wouldn't let me go so here's my second attempt at writing it.

To this day, she could remember everything. The infliction in the doctor’s voice when she’d finally said the words “stage four”. How tightly her mother had squeezed her dad’s hand as she simultaneously pulled her closer to her side. How her dad, who had always stood so tall in her mind, suddenly deflated, looking small and helpless. She remembered watching them together; him, sitting next to her in the hospital in the following months, his hand never leaving her body. Rubbing her leg, lightly grazing her scalp, grasping her hand. On that last day, somehow she could feel it. Feel the sense of finality in the room. Her mother, fierce and strong as she was, had grown weak and frail. Pulling her daughter to her side, she used both hands to gently pull the strands of hair behind her ears and frame her face in her hands. 

“My beautiful girl, you are so loved. Immensely loved.” 

She pulled her tight against her chest. The child’s small hands gripped tightly at the rough material of her hospital gown, breathing in the faint but familiar smell of lavender. 

They’d both sat her down and told her what was coming. Mommy was leaving and she wouldn’t be back. Everyone leaves at some point in their lives, some earlier than others and Mommy’s had come much earlier than expected. She was dying. 

“I don’t want you to leave, Mommy.” Holding on as tightly as she could, chin quivering, even at seven knowing that she had to savor every possible second of this moment. 

Almost inaudibly, she whispered back, “I love you.” 

Rory loved her mother. Loved her more than she would ever be able to put into words. She was kind and gentle, but bold and fierce. She was enchanting and charming. People were drawn to her, finding it difficult to resist her spirit. Dad used to say she could smile at a door and it would open. Her parents had always worked as a team. To Rory, her parents had always been in love. All parents, if married and living together and raising other human beings, that meant they were in love, right? 

Well. Not according to the letter. 

Rory grasped the letter in her hand reading it once. Twice. Then once again. 

Every year since her mother had passed, Rory received a single hand written letter from her mother that she had written in the months leading up to her passing. Each one was different but they were also all the same, in a way. In each one, she never failed to mention how much she loved Rory and her father. How much she would miss them. There was the one about the importance of her school (duh, Mom was always such a nerd.) The one about the importance of her self-expression through art. The one about the changes happening in her body (Dad was especially grateful for that one). The one about the way her first love will make her feel and in contrast to that, the pain her first heartbreak will make her feel. Which was this one. The last one. The final letter in its tiny series. 

She could feel her heart beating in her chest, slowly becoming faster and faster. Rubbing at the crease in her forehead, she read the letter one more time, picking up somewhere in the middle. 

_I’ve always wanted nothing more than the world for you. Your father and I have done everything in our power to give you better than what we had growing up. I hope, especially now, that you see and appreciate everything your father has sacrificed for you._

More than anything, Rory understood the love her father had for her. Life was smoother now, with his teaching job at the university. But she remembered the later nights and early mornings, hearing him slip into or out of their home to one of the two or three jobs he’d have at a time. But somehow, he always made it to her art shows, or soccer games. He was always there, front and center, beaming wide and proud. Cheering the loudest. Clapping enthusiastically. He was always there supporting and encouraging her dreams. At fifteen, Rory was more than aware of the sacrifices he’d made. 

_He’s sacrificed more than you could understand and he’s hid it well. Shutting away his wants and his needs for us. Any good father, would do the same, but you and I both know your father is not just good. He’s extraordinarily beyond the norm. Which is why, I have to make this right._

_These letters have been my way of still being there with you. In this same hospital, only a few floors up, seven years ago I was holding my beautiful new born baby girl. I was imagining your first steps, your first words, your first day of school, your first love, your first heartbreak, sending you off to college, watching you get married and being there with you when you potentially have your first child. I was imagining being there with you, every step of the way. The fact that I can’t is my greatest sorrow. I know that regardless you’ll be okay because of the man I married. I would have written in in earlier letters but something tells me this is the last one I’ll be able to write. For years, I’ve wrestled with the fact that, as much as your dad and I loved and do love each other, his heart has always belonged to someone else._

Rory read that line over again. Tears began to gather in her eyes as she struggled to blink them away. She closed her eyes and breathed. In and out. In and out. 

_…His heart has always belonged to someone else._

No, no, no that can’t be right. Dad loved mom. Mom loved dad. The end. There was no way in hell that he’d ever cheat on Mom. None at all. Her heart thrummed in her chest. She bristled as she read the line one more time. 

_… His heart has always belonged to someone else._

No disrespect, but was her mom out of her fucking mind? 

_Before your dad and I met, he had a friend he had grown up with. Her family did a lot for your dad and Aunt O. Her family became something like their surrogate family for a while. Before we had you, you could see the way his face would light up at the mention of her name. You could see the change in demeanor when they were in the same room. The gravitated towards each other. Her world spun on his axis and his the same. Everyone saw it except for them._

_I’m not entirely sure what happened but, a strain fell upon their friendship. They saw each other less, avoided each other more. By the time I was pregnant with you, she had moved away and started her life on the other side of the country. He never brought her up and shied away from anything that had to do with her. ___

_Maybe by this time, they’ve found their way back to each other and maybe she’s in your life now too. But they’ve always been phenomenally stubborn. If fifteen years have gone by without them talking, I need you to be the one to end the silence. Her name is Clarke Griffin. In college, she was studying healthcare of some sort, so I’m guessing by now she owns her own practice on the west coast. I have albums in the closet on the first floor with hundreds of pictures from our college years._

_I love you. Your dad loves you. He loves us and our family. But Clarke, she’s an essential chapter in the life of your father and one of the main reasons he is the man he is today. Knowing that he’s kept you safe and happy, brings me more joy than you could know. But, he deserves that same joy. ___

Rory neglected the rest of the letter and read through the essential sections one last time before placing it on her bedside table. Mom had always been one for stories and novels of quests and impossible feats, but honestly this was too much. Find someone dad hasn’t talked to in a decade in a half and then what? If Dad hadn't reached out, he'd probably forgotten about her. There was no use in finding some random friend from forever ago because they were fine now. They didn't need anyone else. 

“No,” she chuckled to herself, “No fucking way.” 

Who was this Clarke girl anyway? If she was a doctor or nurse or whatever, on the west coast mind you, she was probably doing very well for herself. Probably married with kids and a dog. Probably a member of her kid’s PTA. Probably stuck up and rich and probably didn’t even care about her dad if she hadn’t tried to reach out for this long. 

But fuck. Mom wanted this. This couldn’t be a mistake; it was right there in her perfect handwriting. 

Subtly biting her lip and running an anxious hand through her hair, Rory picked up her cell phone and selected a number on her recent call log. 

“Hey, Aunt O. I need to talk to you. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr
> 
> easytofall-easytobreakk.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Please review!


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